Still gardening

I awoke to a rainy Mothers’ Day morning and a call from my mom.  She had phoned on Thursday to thank Jay and me for sending her flowers but had had to admit that they were less than colorful, a lot of green.  For an unstoppable Pollyanna, that was quite something, so I was tempted to call the florist in Vernon to complain about the one they used in Victoria.  Fortunately, I didn’t because her call today was mainly to tell me that the flowers had all opened overnight and the bouquet was full of color today.  She had also read since our first call that the florist in Souke who did the work was renowned on the island for her designs using local flowers. 

Jay spent 5 days last week in May’s hometown near Manila; they are probably just settling back into Incheon as I write.   They are 16 hours ahead of BC; it will be Sunday night there.

So Jack swept Quebec, even taking my old riding and in the process defeating Lawrence Cannon.  The NDP did not win here; the Conservatives held on by a fairly large margin.     The Liberals and Bin Laden are both dead.  Although we won’t see the latter’s body, I believe they got him.  As for the former, I’ve lost interest in watching them slowly self- destruct.

The cedar hedge is up and thriving.  It was wonderful to putter around the yard while two strong young men dug 25 deep holes in ground that was good but not without its rocky parts. The work wasn’t easy, but I’m sure I gave them one good laugh to help them through it.  Thinking of Lindy, Cordula and the BC gardener with the spade called Elvis, who all insist that when transplanting you must use plenty of water, I was determined to douse the holes before the trees went in.  As the time came, I realized that the boys were not going to do that, so I went over with my hose and said, “ Do you mind if I put in water before you plant each cedar?  I’m obsessed about wet holes.”  As soon as the words came out, I knew that I was preaching to the converted but on a completely different subject.  I averted my gaze and went to work without waiting for an answer.  Whatever looks they might have shared, I didn’t see, and they at least didn’t laugh out loud.  I continue to water the cedars as I was told to do by the head gardener at the nursery, one minute each twice a week.  Today is supposed to be the day, but as it rained last night and the sun is just coming out now, I won’t have much to do on Mothers’ Day.   I bought a soaker hose and timer at the Swan Lake Nursery yesterday and tomorrow I’ll see if I can make it work.  I don’t want to leave the cedars unwatered while I’m in the east for 2 weeks.  Today I met a couple for coffee who are friends of Bill’s from Thunder Bay and she volunteered to drop by a bit to check on the system and water if it isn’t working, so I continue to find good people who help me and make learning how to live on my own easier.  I’ve been thinking of Jim a lot lately, it’s as if I feel I’ve proven I can do it, live alone, and now he can come back and revel in my admissions that I do have the bag lady tendencies he always accused me of having, I am physically reckless and clumsy and I have no sense of direction.  I’m sure he’d also be ready to admit some of his weaknesses, and we could get back to being together.  But he’s not just with the Gai Luron this time, so I will carry on.   It’s not all bad by any means, but at times it’s awfully quiet.  It’s dangerous being your own and only critic; there’s no aggravation but also no humor in it.  You have to catch yourself up, and for contrarians that’s not easy.  We prefer to have a backboard to bash at a bit before we learn, if we ever do. 

The little cedar on the left of the house is the first in the line of 25 that extends from front to back.  I didn't want to include the mobile home, so this was the only angle I could take.  

This is a little rose and iris garden at the front.